


'The Brain is Alone' Feeling

by bechvaltersen



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechvaltersen/pseuds/bechvaltersen
Summary: Even always pushes away the ones closest to him through episodes of depression, and most times he hates himself even more because of it. Luckily, Isak knows him all too well.My first Skam fic that I'm posting to here, so be nice!Enjoy!





	'The Brain is Alone' Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> CW//Depression - This features a depressive episode so may be heavy for some readers.

He hears the door handle creak as it’s pushed down, can feel the draft as the door opens, wills it with his mind to stay shut and leave him be. God, he just wants to be left be.

“Hi, baby.”

He feels the covers move from the left side of his body, feels the soft cotton be replaced with cold skin. He moves away from it, curls further within himself.

“Sorry, are you cold?”

He doesn’t reply, annoyed that his thoughts have been disturbed. And his warmth, the only thing he’s currently content with.

His eyes press slowly, and open even slower to uncover the pale grey ceiling. He presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth, swallows, then brushes his teeth against his tongue before he takes a breath, eyes closing again for a moment before he lets it out.

His breathing often becomes loud and heavy in his dark episodes, the pressure and anxiety often weighing him down too much. Just one more thing he feels a burden to others with.

“Do you want to come to that fancy restaurant we said we’d go to? You know the one with the hummus you like? I’ll even try it for you, this time, it’ll be my Even culinary lesson of the week.”

He doesn’t want to hurt him. Doesn’t want to reject his offer of a date. Doesn’t want to be the one to stop his open mind. He just wants to be warm and cosy and-

“I just want to stay here,” he says, voice breaking and husky, it going unused for several hours.

“That’s okay,” Isak caresses. He can hear him rub his hands together to warm them up before he places them on his shoulder. He flinches. The touch making him feel uncomfortable.

He hates feeling like this. Hates it when he feels his only option is to reject Isak. Because if he doesn’t then he’ll truly hate him. And then it’ll be the end. And then he’ll be alone. For real. It’s what he deserves, he knows that, but he doesn’t want that. He wants to be with Isak, he doesn’t want to cry at the thought of someone giving him love, he doesn’t want to feel this way at all, but his mind is screaming and his fingers are curling up and he just wants everything to stop. He needs to be on his own. At least then the only thing he can hurt is himself.

His thoughts stop for a moment and tune back into the sound of Isak’s ramble.

“-I can bring you tea, and- I will actually make it right, and we can eat snacks, maybe order pizza and- “

“-Isak,” he interrupts with the softest noise Isak barely even hears. Turns his head to look at Isak’s face for the first time of the day. “I want to be on my own.”

“Oh.” Isak’s mouth barely moves, nothing much else, other than his eyes sinking, reacts to his request. He sees it, knows he’s just made him sad again. At least if he’s away from him he won’t get a chance to see just how sad he could make him. It’s not as bad as it could be. And one day, one day he’ll realise he’s better off staying away, it’s better off he’s alone, for everyone. “Okay. I’ll just go for a walk or something and come back when you’ve got some- “

“-Sorry,” he tries. He turns away, looking back up to the ceiling, not being able to face the disappointment he can already picture on Isak’s face.

“Even, it’s okay.”

He feels fingers brush through his hair. Feels grossed out with how greasy it is, how turned off Isak must feel when he feels it. His dirty boyfriend and the hair he doesn’t wash. Isak’s better than this. Better than 3 days of hair being left alone to clean itself. It’s not the worst, but this is only just the start, and Isak really shouldn’t be around for that. Who knows how many more days it’ll have to last.

“It’s okay, because I love you. And I understand.”

He doesn’t. Understand, that is. He doesn’t understand that it’s his good he’s doing this for. Isak will be better off not seeing this, not being around this, not loving this. It’s impossible. He’s impossible.

“That doesn’t mean anything. You don’t know what I’m like.”

His cheek feels a light brush and he can do nothing but cower away from it. He’s wasting his time. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t get to be looked at like that and touched like that. Someone like Isak shouldn’t be here. Not with him.

“Go,” he croaks out. He hates himself. He hates that things have gotten so bad again that this is what it’s come to. Things were so good and now they’re so bad.

Nothing works. Nothing has made him feel better lately but Isak. And now he’s just making him want to cry and he doesn’t want to cry.

“I just want to be alone.”

“Whenever you’re ready. You know I’m here.”

“Doesn’t work.”

His final words prod him to turning on to his side away from Isak, staring at the blank space beside him. His eyes feel sleepy but he’s not sure if he’s actually tired. The more he stares the more the slam of the door and the noise and fuss and footsteps outside the room zoom away from him, the more his eyes fill up with tears and roll down his face. He doesn’t even have the energy to wipe them away, just lets them roll down, spilling into his mouth. The only thing that’s gone past his lips today. He feels himself sway, impossible with him nestled amongst his bed covers but he still feels it. He just stares far further into the sheets so much so they begin to blur around him. His mind blurs. He feels numb. He barely feels the droplets fall from his face, only slightly notices the wet cotton his face sinks into.

Then everything goes silent.

 

* * *

 

 

He lies still, body sunken into the mattress, grateful they spent a cheap fortune on a decent one for times like this. He’s unaware of the time. Unaware of how long he’s been asleep. He’s even unaware of the day. It could be anything. Time and energy feel irrelevant. The world itself feels separate from him.

He’s not sure why he’s crying. Not sure why he feels this way. He just knows that he feels wrong and ugly and undeserving and a nuisance and that everyone needs to escape while they can.

He doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get himself. Why is he this way? Why him?

Why does everything feel like this? Like the world’s about to end. Unless it has. Maybe he doesn’t exist anymore, maybe this is why he feels so alone.

He doesn’t have the energy to move. Can’t even lift his head to see where he is. Can’t muster up the energy to learn of his surroundings and company. His body feels too heavy, he’s too tired, he’s just not sleepy. He feels pure exhaustion. Burned out from hitting rock bottom. So maybe the only thing he has the energy to do is sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He knows now is the time to talk. To feel the company and the comfort. But who does he have? Who does he have that won’t get hurt or feel irritation or hatred. He’s desperate to be held. Desperate for an ‘I love you’, ‘I’m here’, ‘It will all be okay’. He feels empty, unloved, unwanted.

The logical thing would be to text Isak, ask him to come home. Or even ring him, just hear his voice and feel the comforting impact his words have upon him. He could call his mum, ask her to come around and bring her vegetable soup.

But he can’t do that. What if they’re busy? Or if they don’t want to? What if they just don’t care enough to waste their time trying to endure his sadness. They don’t need the burden and the wasteful worry.

What would he even say? ‘Hi Isak, I’m feeling sad and like you don’t want me and don’t need the bother of my illness so choose not to care about me. Please shower me with love and hugs even though I don’t deserve it. Please reassure me that you won’t hate when I end up hurting you and doing this again. I love you. Please say it back.’

He understands why he also receives nothing in his depressive periods. No words from friends or family. Just over the top mollycoddling which seem to make everything worse and force himself to sink further into his loneliness.

He wishes Isak didn’t leave though. He remembers that he told him to leave, repeatedly, but usually, when he pushes those he loves away, he doesn’t really want them to go, it’s a foolish test to try and force them to care and say nice things and for them to stick by his side.

He really hates himself.

What if he’s gone forever? What if he truly is fed up of him treating him this way and left. He doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t know what day it is. But he knows he’s slept for many hours and the day he last told him to go is not the same day it is now.

He hears the bed creak before he feels it. Hears the duvet rustle and the mattress springs bounce. The bed dips beside him and he feels it stronger than ever. After an amount of time he’s currently aware of, he can feel and it doesn’t make him want to cry.

Until he can smell him. The familiar smell flies up his nose and fills his senses, he already feels it bringing a comfort to him.

His back presses up against his and the touch of his chin nestles into his hair. He inhales the smell. God, he loves him. He wriggles around within his arms to face him. Peers into his eyes and sees everything he could need and more. His everything. Pure love. Adoration.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” he whispers to him. “I thought you’d left me.”

“You won’t ever lose me.” He feels a brush along his bottom lip, looks into his eyes before closing them as Isak’s own catches his. His body feels a little bit of something other than numb for the first time in a number of days. His eyes daze into a half-open state and peer back into Isak’s. “You’ll have me for infinite time.”

A smile reaches his lips ever so slightly.

“In infinite universes?”

Isak nods, smiling back through a second kiss. He feels the comfort. He didn’t even need to reach out for it this time. But he’s glad. He still can’t think about moving, but he’d rather feel this, love, comfort, home. He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. It’s a start.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are much appreciated to help me! I'm not the most confident with my writing so any help will be well received.


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